Wednesday, March 22, 2006
My jeans are about a centimeter too short and it's driving me insaneSeriously - being tall, it's always a battle to find jeans long enough - this particular pair of jeans are insanely comfortable, but, unless I wear my sexay boots with them, too short. Duh, of course, I didn't remember this until after I had left the house... in Converse. So, I guess I could pull the jeans down a little to make them even more low-rise, but that leaves me with the problem of possibly exposing my thong tha thong thong thong and/or ass if I bend over and definitely exposing the rhinestones on the pockets (no, I haven't gotten around to taking them off yet - but I found a sweater long enough to cover the pockets so it's not a big deal... or so I thought)
And in completely unrelated news - I have identified the two species of gym rats whom I dislike most -
in the girl category - the super skinny (to the point of frailty) blonde running full speed on the elliptical machine for an hour who exudes that air of desperately low self esteem, accentuated by the zealous studying of an US Weekly or some other magazine filled with pictures of skinny famous people. Little does she know that no amount of aerobic exercise is going to make daddy love her more. She needs a hug... and a Twinkie.
In the boy category - the furry-necked potbellied short guy with hugeantic arms who struts around wearing his camouflage John Deere shirt one size too small with one sleeve pushed up to show off his completely cliche tribal tattoo. He doesn't realize that cartoonishly large arm muscles do not = fitness or a big penis. And neither does a big truck, even if it has a gun rack.